A Bad Day
by DragonBlood-Katana
Summary: Bokuto falls apart and Akaashi is there to pick up the pieces and tape him back together.


The first thing that Bokuto noticed when he woke up was the dull emptiness sitting like a rock in his chest. He sighed and rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow. It was going to be one of _those_ days, and he hated _those_ days. At least it was a Saturday.

 _Those_ days were the days when it was all he could do at the best of moments to keep himself from just laying down on the sidewalk and just saying _Fuck it, I'm done. Those_ days were the days where everyone noticed something was off and no one said a word because they didn't want to pry. _Those_ days were also the days where Bokuto desperately wished he was allowed antidepressants, even though the one time he had taken them, he had had a massive headache and been dizzy for days. It had helped, though, to quiet down the constant buzz of the horrible thoughts that ran circles in his head all day long.

He forced himself to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror for a good five minutes, making sure his wide smile was believable despite the deadness of his eyes. He tried, he really did, but it never seemed to make a difference. He still wasn't living up to his parents' expectations. On the other hand, he was still doing well in volleyball and he still hadn't pushed Akaashi away completely, which was a plus. He tried to be loud and boisterous because that's what people figured he'd be like when they first met him, and he knew that they felt proud of themselves, even slightly, if their original judgement turned out to be right, so he tried to give them that. He tried his hardest to be happy and loud and excitable, just to give people that little upside to their day, to make them think _I guessed right, I must be a decent judge of character,_ and make at least one thing work out a little, no matter how bad a day they were having.

Unfortunately, being so upbeat all the time took its toll on him fairly quickly. He got tired quickly—not physically, but emotionally. Within an hour of volleyball practice, he just wanted to be done with human interaction for the rest of eternity. There was too much noise, too many people, and too little space, and he couldn't think. That was usually when he went on autopilot and just started to tune things out so that he could handle the sensory overload.

The only person who knew about his "issue," as he liked to refer to it as, was Kuroo, who had walked in on one of Bokuto's worst moments on accident. When Bokuto got particularly stressed, he had a bad habit of berating himself and voicing all his negative self-reflective thoughts out loud, partially to remind himself what a piece of shit he was and partially to relieve the stress.

Kuroo did his best to help, but he was still loud and a little too touchy for Bokuto on his bad days. On those days, really the only thing keeping him sane was Akaashi.

Akaashi was the best thing to happen to Bokuto, ever. He was quiet and steady and willing to put up with all of Bokuto's shit despite the fact that he often seemed annoyed. In all honesty, Bokuto wanted to explain to Akaashi what he knew he felt, but was too afraid of the consequences and possible negative outcomes and too stressed about the test he had gotten back the previous day—he hadn't looked at it yet, since he was too much of a coward—to even consider the possibility.

Bokuto left the bathroom after that, groaning as he saw the time. He was late, and sure to get scolded by Akaashi. He had promised to go over to the setter's house and show the test to Akaashi. It was something they did after every test, but it didn't make Bokuto any less nervous. He always worried that Akaashi would do what Bokuto's parent's did and get mad at him if he got less than a perfect score. Akaashi never did, but that didn't keep Bokuto from worrying and getting irrationally anxious about it.

Bokuto got dressed and sent a text to Akaashi saying he had overslept. It was true, to a degree, but he still felt bad about misleading the setter. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out the door, careful to lock it behind him. He set off down the apartment stairs—the elevator was broken down again—and he could've sworn that his anxiety increased with every step. By the time he got to Akaashi's house, he wanted to either cry or go back to sleep. He wasn't entirely sure which.

He knocked, shaking his hair out of his face. He hadn't bothered to spike it; he hadn't had the time or the energy or the motivation to do so. Besides, he knew that Akaashi liked it when he left his hair down, so he didn't quite mind.

Akaashi answered the door in grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, which Bokuto knew meant he was relaxed and in a relatively happy mood. That was how Bokuto had learned to tell what mood Akaashi was in; by what he wore in his free time.

Akaashi let him in and Bokuto toed off his shoes in front of the door. He knew he should've been acting a little more bouncy, but it just wasn't there that day. He just _couldn't._

Akaashi didn't comment, though. He didn't even appear to notice. He just lead Bokuto up the stairs to his bedroom, like he always did, and sat on the bed. Bokuto sat cross-legged on the floor, turning and beginning to rifle through his bag to find the test. When he did find it and pull it out, his heart sank at the sight of the big red numbers printed at the top.

Only ninety two percent. His parents were going to go ballistic. Normally, he could get a ninety five or higher, but English was his worst subject and it had been a long test and the day he'd taken it had been one of _those_ days.

He felt like he was going to be sick as he handed the paper to Akaashi, lowering his eyes to the floor. Bokuto felt horrible. Those dark, dark thoughts were running through his head again. _You failed your parents. You failed Akaashi. You're such a waste. You waste the oxygen and the space of smarter, more important, better people. Why do you even exist? You don't deserve to exist, you piece of shit._

Bokuto didn't realize he'd been tugging at his hair and muttering the words out loud until Akaashi knelt in front of him and gently pulled his fingers away from his scalp. Akaashi's eyes were gentler and kinder than Bokuto had ever seen them, and it was clear he was concerned.

"What are you talking about? You did great on the test, Bokuto. You didn't fail anyone, you're not a waste, and you _certainly_ deserve to exist." Akaashi's words were soft and fond, his hands clasped lightly around Bokuto's fingers.

Bokuto stared at Akaashi, torn between awe and guilt. He was amazed that Akaashi actually cared enough to nullify his fears, but he felt horrible that he had inconvenienced the setter _again._ He sighed softly, glancing away from Akaashi's gaze and fixing his eyes on the floor again.

"Hey, don't do that. Look at me, Bokuto. Look up."

Akaashi's voice was almost pleading and so gentle it hurt. Bokuto could feel tears that he'd suppressed for years burning the back of his eyes, but he didn't want to let them fall. He didn't want to show that side to Akaashi, who he looked up to so much.

One of Akaashi's hands moved up to Bokuto's cheek, gently tilting the spiker's head up so that their eyes met. The pure kindness in Akaashi's eyes it what broke Bokuto. He started to shake as tears beaded at the corners of his eyes and they slowly rolled down his cheeks one by one. Akaashi pulled Bokuto forward into an embrace, the spiker's forehead resting in the crook of his setter's neck.

Bokuto shook as he cried, tears slowly soaking Akaashi's shirt. Akaashi ran his hands lightly along Bokuto's spine, rubbing his back soothingly. He murmured reassurances into Bokuto's ear, telling him again and again how well he had done and how much his effort was appreciated; telling him how much Bokuto himself was appreciated. Bokuto couldn't help but cry harder, the warmth and acceptance radiating from Akaashi's gentle actions was wringing every last drop of emotion from him.

When he was done crying, Bokuto explained everything to Akaashi. His voice was muffled against Akaashi's shoulder and rather hollow, but he didn't care. He talked about the pressure his parents put on him and how he never seemed to make them happy no matter how hard he tried. He talked about how empty he always felt and how hard _those_ days were on him. He talked about the way he pretended to be someone he wasn't for the sake of making other people happy. He even talked about how much he looked up to Akaashi. All the while, through all the words and pauses and deep breaths Bokuto had to take to steady himself, Akaashi's hands were rubbing slow, steady circles on the spiker's back. It was really the only thing keeping Bokuto grounded, and it was almost hypnotically gentle. When Bokuto was finished talking, they sat in silence for a few moments before Akaashi began to speak.

"You really are an idiot. You're so selfless that you're hurting yourself emotionally, and you still don't stop. You need to stop believing it when your parents say that you're not trying hard enough, though. You're doing the best you can, and it's not fair to expect you to get perfect grades all the time. It's okay to miss a few points here and there, okay? You don't have to be perfect, because you're not. You're not perfect, and that's why everyone loves you so much."

Bokuto felt like crying again. He nodded mutely, not trusting him to speak, and wrapped his arms carefully around Akaashi's waist. They sat like that until Akaashi decided that it was time to sleep, and then they climbed into the bed. They fell asleep curled up against one another, fingers gently entwined in the tiny amount of space between them.


End file.
